


Noble Duty

by Kosho



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Backstory, Custom Trevelyan, Daggers, Dubious Morality, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Half-Elves, Half-Human, Human, I Don't Even Know, Inquisitor Backstory, Inquisitor Being an Asshole, Moral Ambiguity, Morality, Morally Ambiguous Character, My First..., Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sassy Inquisitor, Tags Are Fun, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, That looks like it hurt, There's A Tag For That, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7862470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Kosho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Call me Zero..." is what she says. </p><p>Leashed to the Inquisition with a special mark, all thoughts of home begin to diminish. The Inquisition has a lot to learn, as does she, whether it be fate or the Maker, her life and the lives of those she has to live with are bound to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Zero"

**Author's Note:**

> My descriptions are no bueno. I'll try to tidy this up a bit.

“Yes, of course. If you think my presence will in any way  _ help _ matters, I’ll go.” Said with great reluctance. 

 

That was the beginning of her trip, by far more exciting on the way to the Conclave, then when she arrived. What was to come next, no one could have ever prepared for, not what she was later told had happened, no, her presence. 

 

Awakening in a dimly lit room, she immediately noticed the presence of the women who approached her, counting the guards silently. Four, as far as she could tell, nothing she couldn’t handle. The shackles, also no problem, the woman glared daggers at her, and without skipping a beat, she pulled her hands free, only to be greeted by coils of rope. That was a problem, so tight they cut in, the clothes she wore, not her own, meaning she had no means to cut them herself. 

 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now…” the darker haired woman asked. 

 

She was  _ never _ one to be caught off guard, and she knew, those she had brought with for her  _ own _ safety had surely caught up by now. Were she to give the signal, the situation would be hers to control. For now, she relished in the idea of playing this game just a moment longer. 

 

“Hm...perhaps you  _ should. _ If you knew what I’ve done with my life, you might  _ want to. _ Unfortunately for you, my father wouldn’t like that very much. He’s kind of a big deal back home.” she hummed playfully. 

 

“Who are you to suggest your family ties can save you, when everyone but you perished in the Conclave?” she spat angrily. 

 

“If you insist on a name, call me Zero, I am all and I am nothing.” she told her. “I don’t need my family ties. I brought backup.” 

 

Her tone was playful still, her lips pursed, she whistled loudly, the door bursting open, though no one could be seen. The guards fell one by one without any visual indicator of what happened. 

 

“Love to stay and chat, but I’m a busy girl. Just to be sporting, I’ll give you a few seconds to tell me why I should stay.” she offered. 

 

The red haired woman in the shadows nudged her to give an answer, nodding her head towards the door. 

 

“We need your help. The explosion at the Conclave tore a hole in the sky that threatens to destroy everything. That mark on your hand is the only thing that might close it, but for that, we need your cooperation…” she explained, begrudgingly. 

 

Zero leaned back, smirking broadly. “You  _ need _ me, and yet you threatened to kill me yourself. What should I make of that, I wonder?” 

 

The quieter of the two hesitated, drawing the hood away from her, lengthy golden waves tumbling free, one eye obscured, by her hair, the other, violet in color, framed by a black tattoo under her eye. She had never had the pleasure, or misfortune as it might be, of dealing with her, but Zero could tell, she knew just who she was. 

 

“You’re of House Trevelyan, are you not?” she asked. 

 

“You could say I am.” she replied. 

 

“You know this girl, Leliana?” the woman wondered. 

 

“Of her, yes, not personally. What little we reclaimed from the site suggests that her and a few relatives attended.” 

 

Zero raised her hands, a blade cutting through the rope between them. She rose to her feet, dusting herself off. Nodding to her as yet hidden companions, she shrugged. “So, let’s go see this hole, shall we? I’d like to be on my way out of here by nightfall.” 

 

The woman made a noise in the back of her throat, clearly bothered by her far too casual attitude. Noticing she had gotten free, she rolled her eyes, gripping her hand in the hopes she would follow that way without disappearing on her. Beyond the gates, she spoke up finally, likely waiting until out of earshot of others. 

 

“You were unconscious for days, how did your men know to wait?” she wondered. 

 

“I’m  _ never _ not in charge of any situation I find myself in. They are paid well, under my employ. Without proof that I were dead, they would not leave.” she answered. 

 

“Such a devout family doesn’t mind what you do?” she asked. 

 

“Sure, they  _ mind. _ It was the intent that I join the Templar Order, in fact. I was told to come here, and begin when I return, but let’s face it, I was having too much fun on my own.” she said, gesturing down the bank. “I take it that’s your cue to let go of me.” 

 

The woman seemed conflicted, face the creatures and risk her getting away, or stay at her side and bait them up the bank. Instead of either, she pulled her down with her, forgoing her shield to keep a hand free. 

 

“You realize I said I’d help, I’m not going anywhere, at least, not yet.” she sighed. 

 

Hesitating, she let go, surprised at how quickly she moved, the length of rope that once bound her tucked up her sleeve, using it to her advantage as though it were merely a weapon she was trained in all her life. The truth was far simpler, she had long since learned to use what was available to her advantage, finding that most things had potential to be deadly if used cleverly enough. The woman said nothing of it, waving her to follow once more, and as she had indicated, she followed. 

 

“What I would like to know is what the Right Hand of the Divine is still doing here. If the Divine is truly dead, you’re free. You could go anywhere you wanted.” she said, an attempt at conversation. 

 

“I am here to see the Breach closed, and to follow her instruction. As far as I’m concerned, I cannot yet leave. How is it you know of that?” she questioned. 

 

They slogged through snowy paths and more of the same creatures towards the sound of shouting, and fighting before she finally answered. 

 

“I thought everyone knew. Lady Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the Divine. The woman from before, is she not similarly the Left Hand?” she said. 

 

“You are correct. Leliana and I  _ were _ the Left and Right hands. You are strangely well informed for one who would insist on not recalling what happened.” she grunted. 

 

“Much like her, it is to my best interest to know whatever I can. Remember how not long ago I told you I’m  _ always _ in control? You learn to do your research after so many failed attempts on your life.” she laughed. 

 

They joined the group, helping to quickly bring an end to the fighting, her hand clutched now by a bald elven man. Withholding judgment, she allowed him to raise her hand to the small tear, a wave of pain shooting through the marked hand, dispelled when the hole had closed. So it really wasn’t idle fancy that it might be useful in closing the Breach, but what  _ else _ could it do, that was what she really wanted to know. While they spoke, making introductions, she knelt to retrieve a weapon among the debris. A sword, not her first choice, but until she got her own clothes back, this would have to suffice. She recalled the thought that  _ they  _ had no idea what they were in for. Zero’s plans to leave would be delayed, a fact  _ she _ could never have anticipated. Her life was set to change in ways she couldn’t possibly imagine, and this was just the beginning. 


	2. Herald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zero recalls the events at the Temple, and plots a trip to Orlais.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm aware I skipped over meeting Mother Giselle. I apologize, but she'll still be around~

Zero sat up slowly, her hand instinctively covering her eye, throbbing. Pulling it back, there were still faint traces of blood oozing up from the gash. It took a bit to recall what had happened, exactly, the memories flooding back as vividly as if it were still happening.

_They reached the Temple, the scent of still burning corpses wafting sickeningly through the air, skeletons frozen in pained horror like statues sculpted by an artist who had gazed into the eyes of pure evil. The path down narrowed by piercing, glowing red formations, narrated by the writer as being red lyrium, something that could drive a man mad. Why it was on the grounds seemed a source of curiosity for her as well, if it was so dangerous as to lure one away from sanity, what possible reason could there be for it to be on the site of potential peace talks? The sound of voices, a fade imprint so strong it was left as a faint reminder of what had happened, only serving to confirm that she had indeed been there, seen the Divine herself when someone called for her death, a figure cloaked in wisps of black smoke that she couldn’t remember at all, let alone smoothing out the details of the being’s appearance._

_At Solas’s insistence, she had opened the rift, like tearing open a healing wound, a Pride demon spilling out of the gaping hole. Yes, that was right, this gash that would likely scar was from that fight. For a chance to sink the sword in deeply, she took a direct hit, not something that would have happened, had she been allowed to retrieve her daggers, but the danger of the Breach was too great for further delays, and so it had been a conscious decision, take a direct lash to the face in exchange for what was ultimately the killing blow. Her hand lifted high, sealing the rift in the hopes it might also close the Breach itself, but the strain had been too much for her still recovering self. So this was Haven again?_

Zero was certain she had caught herself back up to speed, pushing herself from the bed to recover her clothing and weapons from their place in a black chest on the floor. She peered curiously into the sleeves of the black leather coat, relieved to see all as she had left it, reaching to her back to sheathe the spiny daggers, given to her nearly a year past for a job she had taken, they were her prized possessions. Best to give her muscles a chance to work, to see if her efforts had paid off after all. Assuming it was done, she could head for the coast and catch a ship home, or even to Kirkwall, where she could catch a carriage home, presumably. She halted abruptly just outside the door, a veritable _horde_ of people gathered, all watching her, whispering as she walked through.

“That’s her, the Herald of Andraste!” someone said excitedly.

Looking behind her for confirmation, she realized they were referring to her after all. Herald of Andraste, what was that even supposed to mean? Did they really think Andraste herself had dropped her from the skies to save them? Sure, a title like that could benefit her considerably more than ‘Bann Trevelyan’s youngest child’ ever could, but for all her poor choices, she was still Andrastian by nature. Devout, as her family demanded, she even occasionally stopped to offer prayer over her victims in the vain hope of drawing the Maker’s attention to them. She had morals, only that they were quite clear in some areas, and a bit murky in others. An example being that she was thoroughly unwilling to _steal_ , but she had no problem looting a corpse, not like they could take it with them anyway, it was going to waste in a dead man’s pocket. Of course, she was also unwilling to kill a child, though unlike some in her line of business, women were fine. In her mind, it was also important to distinguish that her preferred targets were those who made attempts on her life first, those who she knew to be completely corrupt being the other. She would never accept a job for someone she felt was innocent, by default, not truly her distinction to make, normally the Maker’s domain to judge the weight of men’s sins.

Without realizing it, the path she had followed through the group had led directly to the chantry.

‘I get the hint, already…’ she thought.

Zero strode down the hall, ignoring the arguments, bursting in confidently. Cassandra met her look for a second, and she lofted her brow questioningly, silently asking if she needed ‘assistance’ with the chancellor, to which she almost imperceptibly shook her head in denial. Shrugging, she watched as the man stalked out, taking a deep breath, more than a little familiar with those who figured their position in the chantry _actually_ amounted to anything meaningful. Had it not been for the fact that being Trevelyan meant inevitably finding a place in the chantry, whether it was your will or not, she would have fought the decision to have her given to the Order tooth and nail. She was more efficient in her chosen skills, but there was no escaping the inevitabilities completely. Mages naturally went to the Circle, those who showed promise were sent to the Order, and those who landed squarely between the two ended in chantry service in one form or another.

“Couldn’t help but notice, that dreadful hole is still up there. What gives?” she asked.

“You managed to keep it from spreading, Solas believes that another attempt will close it completely, but that requires more power. For now, as you no doubt recall, we must go to Val Royeaux. Without meeting with the chantry there, we have no hope of gaining the alliance we need to see this through…” she explained.

Ugh. She had no love for Orlais, it was a place she’d rather avoid entirely, but if going was a necessity, she’d suck it up. All of this work to close the Breach was a delay in her plans to leave, though in truth, she didn’t actually _want_ to return to Ostwick immediately. If nothing else, the _view_ was better, much more pleasant to look at than the stuffy nobles of the Marches. Even Solas with his distinct lack of her most favorite feature on anyone served to improve her mood ever so slightly. Glancing back, she noticed the spy had been perusing a stack of papers, unsurprised.

“We managed to confirm what we suspected. Bann Trevelyan’s youngest daughter, Brigid, correct?” she asked.

She knew very well that she was only asking to see if she’d try to deny it or opt to lie. _Always stay in control_ was her motto, and in that spirit, she settled on the truth.

“In the flesh.” She said with a light chuckle.

“It’s a shame you haven’t yet joined the Order, I doubt the chantry would complain. With the Templars leaving them, they’d likely be rather eager to get their claws in you.” She sighed.

“I’m sure they would. One leashed wolf is better than none, I suppose. I guess it really doesn’t make much of a difference, at the end of the day I’ve hunted some mages on contract, so why not do it for a living.” She sighed, clearly not thrilled about the idea.

“If you are concerned about it, you could always ask the Commander. He _is_ a former Templar; he might be able to give you an idea of what to expect.” Cassandra suggested.

That was fine, but it was less a concern of what to expect and more the idea that she had no say in the matter. As she had been told, it was arranged shortly before she was born, in fact. The day was fast approaching as well, the one good thing about this alliance being that the longer these affairs took, the more she could delay the day her daggers were traded for a proper blade and the lyrium that went with it.

“Of course. For now, however, I’m content to get this Val Royeaux business out of the way.” She grumbled.


	3. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip back leaves time for conversation and stories

Val Royeaux was now safely behind them, with little enough of note happening, though the trip back was proving to be stressful. More than dealing with Hevara, at least. It continued well into the time when they set camp, a back and forth between herself, Cassandra and Solas. Brigid had already decided to pursue the mages, without seriously considering the Templars as an option, and Solas agreed with her, but Cassandra had insisted it might still be worth looking into. 

 

“Why, what reason would someone bound for the Order have for siding with the mages?” she asked. 

 

Brigid glanced up from her daggers, setting the cloth she had been cleaning them with, frowning slightly. “Do I really need a reason? If you need one, why not just go with ‘I’m at that age.’ Rebelling is kinda my thing.” 

 

She shrugged when she finished her statement, her focus back on polishing her weapons, Perhaps she imagined it, but she could have sworn Solas laughed at that, though it was brief and quiet. 

 

“I’m certain your father wouldn’t approve.” She responded. 

 

Not looking up this time, she chuckled. “Do I seem like I’m worried about what he approves of? Besides, this far away, what could he possibly do, compose a strongly worded, very angry letter? Ooh. I’m shaking.” 

 

Deciding to diffuse the situation before it got out of control, Varric decided on an abrupt topic change, gesturing to the daggers. “Those look fancy. What’s the deal with them?” 

 

Cassandra threw her arms up, pacing back and forth, as though waiting for a chance to bring the subject up again. Puffing her chest out proudly, she held them up, the firelight bright enough to cast a flickering glint off the spiny blades. 

 

“These were a gift. I met an Elven man in my travels, and I helped him out of a small jam. This was my reward. Like Bianca, I’ve given them names.” she told him. “I call them the fangs, this one…” she raised the left. “Is the Fang of Deception, and this…” she raised the right. “Is the Fang of Betrayal.” 

 

“Those are awfully dark names.” he commented. 

 

“I like to think it fits. They say snakes are quick to dig their fangs in your back. Not actual ones, I’d imagine, you’d realize they were there before they could get that high, probably.” she explained. 

 

Cassandra fixed her glare on her at that precise moment, no words needed to be said to understand the meaning behind the look she shot her with. 

 

“Now now, dear Lady, I didn’t kill the Divine, and I certainly have no intent to use these on anyone in the Inquisition. It’s quite a disadvantage to kill my allies. Besides, have I not had multiple opportunities to attack? I haven’t taken them. All I want is to fix the world, so I can skirt my responsibilities to my family just a little longer.” she admitted.

 

“You really don’t want to become a Templar, do you?” she asked. 

 

“Would you? You’ve heard the stories, I’m sure. I was in the Marches, everyone heard the stories coming out of Kirkwall, the Knight-Commander lost her marbles, among other things. Everyone knows the stories from other circles, unprovoked attacks, the threat of Tranquility at the slightest provocation, even rape. Why would anyone in their right mind want to be associated with those things? Even those innocent of any of that are stained by the wrongs of their comrades. Besides, surely you know there are mages in my own family as well, mages I happen to get along decently with, I don’t want to be the one my own family avoids like the plague because of what was chosen for me.” Brigid told her, as calmly as she could manage, though it was clear that it was a touchy subject.

 

“Yes, that may be so, but even you must realize that mages have --” Cassandra began. 

 

“Don’t start on that. You would group all mages in one basket when you surely know not every mage has done wrong. People like to use the excuse that they  _ can _ , without considering that some fear the same things as non-mages. It’s as though they believe that mages  _ want _ to be possessed. I’ve explained that I’ve also killed mages, though it would go against my own moral code to off someone who was not guilty of something worth killing for.” she cut her off before she could make the argument. 

 

Examining the weapon in her right hand, she frowned, setting it back down. She whistled loudly, waiting for something to happen. There was nothing unusual for several minutes, until a figure approached, casually taking a seat in front of her, reaching for the blade. The elven woman gave no notice to them, as if she either hadn’t seen them or simply didn’t care that they were there. She was Dalish, judging by the red markings on her face that extended down her throat, a mage, by the staff on her back. The two of them conversed quietly, her choice of words catching Solas’ curiosity. 

 

“So you speak Elven?” he asked. 

 

“A little. I’ve been learning it from her.” she replied. “Ah, that reminds me, this is Hemlock. So named for her proficiencies with poison. As you can see, she doctors up my blades for me. I can mix up a bit here and there, but not as well as she can.” 

 

Hemlock finally looked up, flicking a wave in greeting. Standing back up when she finished, she nodded again. “I will go back to the others.” 

 

“Anyway. Haven. We should arrive early afternoon  tomorrow, if the choice remains up to me, then I still intend to seek the aid of the mages.” she announced, gesturing to one of the tents. “I’ll turn in now, so we’ll be ready to go early in the morning.” 

 

“I’ll stay up a little longer.” Cassandra said.

 

She eyed the tent curiously as Varric and Solas filed in after her. Granted there were only two tents set up, she had assumed it would be men in one tent and women in the other, unless they planned to stay up and do something she wasn’t meant to be involved in? That could be a possibility, Varric likely still held a grudge against her for interrogating him, and Solas, who knew what he was thinking. She might have chanced eavesdropping if it weren’t for the near silence, at least until she heard the sound of cards being shuffled. So that was it, not sleeping but staying up to play cards without her. Granted, if they had invited her, she would have refused anyway, now was not the time for such frivolous pursuits. But Solas,  _ Solas _ , she couldn’t picture him getting involved in it either, he always seemed more of the reflective nature-loving type. Still though, she made a point of saying she was sleeping early, surely they didn’t intend to sleep in the same tent, did they? 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I just would like to add, Zero isn't her actual name. It's more like a code, an alias really >


End file.
